


Love is Quiet

by Almadynis



Category: Interstellar Brides Program - Grace Goodwin
Genre: F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, I couldn't sleep, after Cyborg's Secret Baby, how to better protest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29183829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almadynis/pseuds/Almadynis
Summary: There's protestors outside the Bridge Processing Center. When a woman begins to tell them how to protest better, they actually listen.





	Love is Quiet

Interstellar Brides series by Grace Goodwin

>>>sometime after book “Cyborg’s Secret Baby”

_Interstellar Brides Processing Center, Florida, Earth_

Lily had been coming to the processing center, trying to work up the courage to go inside and volunteer, often enough to recognize a couple faces in the alien guards. She also saw one notice her and gave her a perfunctory nod, acknowledging her presence and that he recognized her.

“Okay then,” Lily muttered. That was as much a sign from the gods than anything. Today was the day. She took a deep affirming breath, got off the bench, and strode to the center.

The day was hot and humid, just like any normal summer Miami day. And just like any other day, there was a group of protestors in front of the Interstellar Bride’s Center gated entryway. All of whom were holding signs, or yelling, or both.

“E.T. go home!”

“Stop stealing our women!”

“Sex slaves bought here!”

“Murderers are among us!”

“Stay among your own kind!”

“Humans before aliens!”

“We don’t want your leader!”

However, Lily had done her research. She’d seen the promotional ads as well as the _Bachelor Beast_ show. What stuck out to her most wasn’t what they were protesting. What she wanted, needed, craved, had nothing to do with what they were yelling about. Which was also patently ridiculous. As if the government would allow an embassy on American soil, without a constant National Guard contingent, if any of those things were true. (Lily might not have a lot of faith in Earth’s government, but there were certain things she did trust.)

But then, Lily had never given much stock to human logical deduction. She just figured these people had nothing else to do with their lives. It was 2:15pm on a Wednesday. If they had jobs, she’d be surprised.

It was also the day after the ‘incident’ of the Atlan—no other alien was nearly as big as they—in the ice cream parlor. The security footage had been leaked to the press, who’d been airing it almost every hour as proof of the ‘barbarian nature of the aliens’.

Lily had seen it of course, but hadn’t believed it. The news had been cherry-picking their footage and releases for as long as she could remember. The aliens just gave them another topic to run their fake news. In as much as she knew where to find some real full-content footage sites. Those run by none of the major news networks. Those that cared about the truth instead of ratings or political influence.

She’d seen the full security tape and it had bolstered her courage enough to begin researching the aliens to her best ability and resources. Which is what had led her to the Bride Processing Center. She liked what she saw and the inferences she’d made based on what she’d seen.

So she’d put in her notice at work. Sold her home and found a good home for her dogs. Except for a few treasured possessions in her backpack, and the little bit of money she still had in her account, she only owned the clothes on her back.

It was still overwhelmingly daunting. Everyone she spoke to said that if she changed her mind that they wouldn’t hold it against her and she could come back. They were kindly giving her an out if she wanted one. She’d been staying at a hotel down the block for the last week, trying to get up her courage and go through with it. She knew this was probably the best thing she could ever do for herself, but being so selfish was against her nature and it would be such a huge change—change never being something she was comfortable with—that she balked.

Now here she was, walking toward the front gate, her backpack with all she owned and cherished cradled like a shield against her chest.

_Walk up to the gate, you can do it,_ she thought. But before she could get to the gate, she had to walk past the protestors. And now that they were aware of her presence, and what it would mean—that she was volunteering to be a Bride—they were angry and yelling **at** her. She wasn’t good with yelling. Her heart began to beat faster as her adrenaline spiked.

“Don’t do this!”

“Don’t you know they’re murderers?!”

_You can do it._ She was halfway there.

“They murdered someone just last week!”

“You’ll never be able to come back to your family!”

“-- supporting human trafficking!”

“--Slave!”

Finally, she was at the gate and stepped through. The guards were waiting for her. Legally, they couldn’t interfere in either the protestors or help her through. She had to make the walk herself. But once she was in the gate, she was on Coalition property and safe. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“Are you alright, lady?” the giant seven-foot tall guard on her left asked her, his voice deep but soft.

Still the cacophony of yelling made her wince. “There’s still time!”

“Come back to humanity!”

“Where’s your loyalty?!”

**“Traitor!”**

That last one got her attention because it was accompanied by a huge _thump_ and suddenly she was wet. Lily looked down and couldn’t quite believe it. She was covered in bright red paint…she hoped it was paint. She swallowed convulsively at the thought of what else it could be.

The guard on the left growled, “Get the lady inside.”

The guard on the right hadn’t needed the command, he was already ushering her down the path.

“How can you go with them?!” that same voice screamed.

Lily had about had enough. Yes, she was a coward, but there came a time when enough was enough.

She turned on her heel and went back down the walkway. The guard grunted a protest, but didn’t interfere. Legally he couldn’t. He could protect her, but not from herself. If she wanted to leave, he couldn’t prevent it. However, she wasn’t leaving.

Lily got to the end of the walkway, though still on Coalition property, and stopped, glaring at the protestors. Who had, amazingly, stopped yelling to cheer her on, thinking she was coming back, just as the guards had.

Steeling her spine and trying to quiet the hammering of her heart, Lily put on her best calm expression and asked, “Do you think this works?”

The crowd quieted at her words, confused.

A previously unseen camera suddenly appeared with a newsanchor in the corner of her eye, but she ignored them. _“Here we are live, about to see how this confrontation plays out. After last week’s epic debacle, what could this woman possibly be thinking? Let’s listen in.”_

“What?” the same voice that had called her a traitor. It was a man, mid to late twenties. Just out of college perhaps. Still living at home in this economy, she had no doubt. Which meant he was still ignorant of how the world really worked.

So she gave him her best blandness, ignored the coldness of the wet seeping into her clothes, and looked at him. “Do you think this works?” she asked again. “Do you think throwing paint balloons makes me want to listen to you?”

“Uhhh…” he didn’t know what to say. He looked around him for an answer in the crowd, but none came. He looked back at her.

“Would you like it if someone threw a paint balloon at you?” she insisted.

“Uhhh…no…”

“Would you be more willing to listen to someone if they yelled in your face?”

“…no…” he was almost blushing now.

“So why are you doing it?” she asked, almost gently.

At this, he practically perked up. “Because they are aliens and trafficking in sex slavery and you shouldn’t go with them!” The left guard snarled, making the kid flinch, but he didn’t back down. The apparent safety of the fence line giving him courage.

Lily just looked at the boy—now that she had made the comparison, she couldn’t help but think of him as a child—for long seconds until he shifted his gaze. She’d won the test of wills, even if he wasn’t consciously aware of it.

“Do you want to know a better way to protest the Bride’s Center?” she asked, lowering her voice as if she were a conspirator.

“Hell yeah!” he nodded frantically.

The cameraman got a few steps closer. Lily ignored him.

Lily brought out her instructor tone. “To be able to accurately protest anything, you have to know why it exists. So, why would Bride’s be attracted to the Bride’s Center? It’s not exactly close to most anywhere. So it isn’t convenience that’s doing it. And I’m talking about the volunteers, not the inmates. Why would a woman want to be a Bride?”

“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “They’re huge! And bullies!”

She ignored that the boy was a bully as well. She was making a point. “Try to put yourself in the mind of a woman. Look at them,” she turned and gestured to the two guards, “what do you see?”

The one on the left was at least seven feet tall, while the one of the right was actually bigger at maybe eight feet. Both were hugely muscled and scowling. Both had what appeared to be weird type of space guns strapped to their thighs. The left was golden skinned and honey haired. The right was darker, more mocha, with black hair. Both were standing well within arm’s reach of her, but back far enough that there was a small illusion of independence.

“They’re huge!” the boy said again. He stared a bit longer and finally shrugged. “They could break me in half.”

“Do you want to know what I see?” When he nodded, she continued. She gestured again, this time more specifically as she spoke. “That one, see his hand? It’s close enough to his weapon he can draw it in a blink to take care of the threat, while that one is close enough to pull me behind him, using himself as a shield if need-be. That one is close enough that he’s also within arm’s reach of you, since you are the forward-most possible threat to me.” The boy nervously shifted backward. “Before you do that,” he froze, “notice that while they positioned themselves to be _able_ to do all that, they haven’t. Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because you are only a potential threat, not an actual one. They are willing to put their lives on the line to protect me, but they are rational enough to respond to harm only. Instead of,” she gestured to her ruined outfit still dripping red paint. The kid had the decency to blush. “They didn’t prevent me leaving. They escorted me both ways, but weren’t forceful.

“Earlier, that one noticed me and nodded to me. He recognized me from before. He was friendly without being commanding.” She looked at the pair. “I see two warriors, willing and able to protect those who can’t protect themselves. Standing in defense of those weaker than themselves. Just that, all by itself, is very attractive to a female eye.”

The kid’s face contorted in confusion. “But what about,” he waved vaguely. “They’re being all buff and stuff.”

Lily turned her back on the guards and gave the boy her full attention. “What about it? They’re outward appearance tells me nothing about their strength of character. It doesn’t tell me anything about their honor or how they would treat a woman. You can tell a lot about someone in how they treat those weaker than themselves, whether that’s physically weaker or politically weaker or economically weaker.”

The newscaster, a woman in a pale blue business suit, nodded absently. “She’s right. My father told me that you can always tell a person by how they treat pets and those they consider less than themselves.”

The boy slowly nodded, “Actions speak louder than words.”

“Exactly,” Lily agreed. She paused significantly. “So what do your actions today tell me about you?”

He blushed and hung his head slightly in shame. After a moment, something seemed to occur to him and he straightened his spine to face her again. “You said you’d tell us how to protest!” it was aggressively yelled, so much so that the left guard shifted slightly, making the boy flinch.

“So I did,” Lily nodded. “That was so we could understand how women see the guards, which are their first sight of the Center. A woman looks at them, sees how they act, and sees safety and kindness. Yes, they are big and could easily hurt someone if they aren’t careful, but that they have not done so, even slightly provoked, says they have honor and at least a slight understanding of how they could be perceived here on Earth as opposed to their home planet. Which means intelligence as well. They are honorable protectors. That is very appealing to a woman.” Lily smiled gently, “But I must admit that the nice packaging doesn’t hurt.”

“Told you!” another poked the child in the ribs.

“ _However,_ ” Lily stressed, quieting the crowd again, “if they had been aggressive assholes, all that immediate physical attraction would have vanished in an instant. Packaging is nice, but _it’s just the surface_. What really attracts a woman is your _actions_.”

“What does that mean for our protest?” another boy whined, this one even younger than the first.

Lily looked at him, took a breath, and retrained her thoughts. “How do you get someone to go somewhere else?” She paused only a breath before answering her own question. “You make wherever you want them to go more appealing. Pets are easy, put food over there. Give them cuddles and talk sweet, they’ll follow you anywhere. People are more difficult. Women looking for a match, even more so.

“A match?”

“Yes. The Bride Center is promising a woman’s match, her husband and best friend. So if you want a woman not to go here, you have to make elsewhere more appealing to her. And paint balloons don’t work. That’s making you even less appealing. It’s actions working against you. So what should you do to make yourself seem better than what they offer? Because I can promise you that any Earth woman are highly unlikely to come to the Bride Center until after they’ve gone through at least a few Earth men.”

The mid-twenties blinked a lot, as if trying to absorb more than he was capable. Finally he asked, “What do women want?”

All women in immediate hearing range of his question laughed, as well as the older men. “That’s a good question,” Lily encouraged. “That’s a great start. What would a woman really want out of a relationship? What is strong enough to keep her on Earth?”

“Love,” the newscaster answered immediately, caught up in the lecture.

“Yes, love.” Lily nodded. “Love for her family. Whether that is parents, children, or spouse. In this case, we’re talking about a partner, a spouse.”

“Isn’t marrying them enough?”

“Divorce rates are about 50% these days,” Lily said sadly. “Irreconcilable differences is usually the cause. No real reason, they just gradually stop caring about each other. Which is odd, when you think about it. This is a person you loved so much that you both decide to spend the rest of your lives together…and then two years down the road, eight years down the road, you suddenly turn around, look up, and realize that you don’t care about them anymore. How does that happen?”

The teens shrugged helplessly. “My parents divorced when I was 12. Said it wasn’t anyone’s fault, nobody had done anything wrong, they just couldn’t be around each other anymore,” the younger one input.

Lily nodded. “It happens all the time.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s because people forget what love means.” Lily’s smile was sad as she remembered. “When you’re young, you picture love as this magical thing that happens. It’s this great big affair with hearts and fire works.” The boys were both nodding. “And in the beginning, it can be that way, but not always.” The boys face furrowed. “That’s what people mean when they say ‘puppy love’ or ‘first love’. All sparkles and unicorns. It’s grand while it lasts…but it never lasts. That kind of love is beautiful, but it’s a loud kind of love. And love, real true love…real love is quiet.” Her smile was wistful, sad.

“What do you mean, love is quiet? That doesn’t make sense.” One protested.

“Quiet love is deep and true and lasts a lifetime,” Lily insisted. “Quiet love is when a wife makes her husband his favorite dinner after a hard day, or his favorite dessert for no reason at all. She makes sure his best suit is out and ready for an important meeting without being asked. She plainly marks foods he won’t like so that he won’t accidentally eat them. She makes her favorite foods to his tastes. She mends his shirts and favorite pants while he sleeps. She has his favorite coffee ready for when he wakes, hot and just as he likes it. She’ll do things that she doesn’t like, for the sheer reason that she knows he likes them. And when he feels defeated, she’s there to hold him close and remind him of all he’s done right in the past. She’ll remind him with her body that he is loved, because she knows that at our lowest times, sometimes words aren’t enough.”

The entire crowd was listening now. The newsanchor was silent, the cameraman zoomed in to catch every word and facial expression. The boys were still confused, but hung onto every word.

“…So…” the younger one asked hesitantly, “if a girl does all that to show a guy she loves him, what does a guy do?”

Lily’s face was lost in memory as she answered. “He’ll fix the leaking faucet without being asked. He’ll patch the fence so the dogs won’t get out, because he knows she’ll worry if they do. He’ll plant her favorite flowers outside her bedroom window so that she has something sweet to see in the morning, and he’ll put birdseed in the shape of a heart outside the kitchen window so that she’ll see that she has his heart as she works. He’ll listen as she tells him about her hobbies, and then he’ll make a casting table so that she can work without hurting her back. He’ll make sure her favorite drink is always in the cupboard, and he’ll always return the tools back to where they belong; not because he cares where they go, but because he knows that she cares. He’ll kiss her goodbye every morning as he goes to work, and he’ll kiss her hello every evening coming home.

“They support each other, even when they know it’s a bad idea. They encourage each other constantly, bolstering each other when its needed. They are the anchor, holding strong when their partner needs them. They hold each other close at night as they sleep, even when they are too tired for sex. They celebrate the greatness and love each other through the worst that can happen…” her voice had trailed off as tears tracked down her face.

The silence was long as they waited. When she didn’t speak for long moments, the youngest asked quietly, “Who were they? Those people?”

Lily blinked and refocused on him. She smiled that same sad smile, “My parents. They were married for 33 years. Dad died of heartbreak a week after mom.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it.

“Me too. But watching them, I learned what real love is. Real love isn’t loud, it’s quiet and persistent. It’s the rock that holds you as you cry, and the horse leading your charge against the enemy.” She gave a hiccupping laugh full of tears. “I think psychologists call it co-dependency, but personally I think that’s a bit narrow-minded. Real love is when you can’t wait to tell him that joke you heard. When you want to share your day with him, because you like his insight and his company. When he comes to you for a problem that he could solve himself because he knows it matters more to you. When he lets you have the last of his cake because he knows its your favorite.” She went quiet once more.

The boy who had started it all with a paint balloon whispered, “I want that.”

She smiled at him gently. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then go home, and be the quiet patient rock. Show her. And then she’ll show you.”

He nodded again, turned and began to walk away. He only went a couple steps before he asked hesitantly, “What if she doesn’t show me?”

Lily, who had started going back to the Center, looked back at him. “Then she isn’t your match. It’ll hurt and it will take awhile for you to breathe enough to try again. But when your match does come, you’ll know, because her love will be quiet too.”

She turned to walk back, but was once again stopped by a soft question, this one from one of the older crows. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Lily looked at him for long moments, and finally said, “Someone who might listen.” This time no one stopped her as she made it into the building. However, as she entered, she did hear the newscaster, _“Well there you go folks. Real love is quiet…and you heard it live right here at the Interstellar Bride Processing Center!”_

The golden haired guard was giving her a look of compassion and respect. “You will make some lucky warrior a very worthy Bride.”

“That’s the goal.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “It takes a lot of courage to leave behind everything you know for this promise of true happiness.”

Warden Egara was standing at the doors, ready to take her to be processed. She’d seen the live news footage along with hundreds of thousands of others. “It does take quite a bit of courage and faith as well…but I think more women will find their courage after that speech.” Undoing the damage, and possibly more, from the ice cream parlor incident. She’d contact Battleship Karter soon and see what she could pull off for Jorik later.

Lily blushed and ducked her head. Once she’d gotten on a roll, she’d been able to focus more on the lecture aspect and calm her breathing. But now that she was back and safe, she was realizing exactly what she’d done. On the news. Live. Holy shit, had she actually done that?!

Steeling her spine again, she clutched her backpack, “May I please be processed as a Bride?”

“I’d be happy to help you through your matching protocol,” Egara smiled widely. She eyed the bag significantly. “What’s in there?” It wasn’t meant cruelly, but Brides were supposed to come without anything with them. It was standard protocol.

Lily took a step back and clutched the bag tighter. “Pictures. A cap by dad gave me. Some of my mother’s jewelry. Nothing really valuable…just irreplaceable.”

Egara truly cared about her matches, the Bridges and Warlords that she matched. She saw them as part of her family and wanted them to be happy and have the best for each to reach that goal. The smile was warm as she directed the new Bride-to-be into the first available room. “I think we can make an exception this time.”

After all, love was quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> I stayed up for several hours because this wouldn't leave me alone. I hope you enjoy.  
> Written: 02-03-2021


End file.
